


won’t quit while we’re ahead

by witty_kitty



Series: Bottom Wilbur Standalone Works [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Wilbur Soot, Dream’s a little bit manipulative but its not a huge thing, Foreplay, Kinda, M/M, Outdoor Sex(?), SBI brothers are only mentioned, Sex bets/challenges, Spanking, Teasing, This is pre-festival — Wilbur’s a traitor and working with Dream + Schlatt, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur POV, a bit of dub-con at the beginning too but also not huge, a tie is used as a cockring (It’s possible!!), and kind of ex, but I don’t recommend it, can’t help the soft Schlattbur it always comes back damn it!!, not maintagged - you know the drill, possessive/jealous!dream, possessive/jealous!schlatt, the complicated relationship Wilbur has with his former enemies, these fucks are just in a dirt cave y’know how it is, top jschlatt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:22:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28413843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witty_kitty/pseuds/witty_kitty
Summary: A puppeteer, a dictator, and a traitor meet up to plan a festival.Instead, the puppeteer and the dictator end up making a bet, and the traitor is just along for the ride.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Wilbur Soot, Clay | Dream/Wilbur Soot/Jschlatt, Jschlatt/Wilbur Soot
Series: Bottom Wilbur Standalone Works [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048960
Comments: 41
Kudos: 488





	won’t quit while we’re ahead

**Author's Note:**

> **me, Dec. 21:** oh this is gonna be a quick 1k-2k!
> 
>  **me, several days later, not even halfway through the story but it’s already at 2.5k:** goddamnit

Wilbur sighs, running a hand through his messy curls in an attempt to make himself look _somewhat_ presentable as he stands outside the entrance of their small, makeshift meeting room. 

It still feels a bit surreal, if he’s being honest, to be working with two of his former enemies. (They’re not friends, more of coworkers if anything — Wilbur’s been backstabbed one too many times to put his trust in the magic of friendship again.) Add in the fact that it’s all just to destroy the very place he had worked so hard for, and Wilbur wouldn’t be surprised if he wakes up suddenly in a cold sweat. This entire situation _does_ feel like a nightmare. 

The soft clicking of bones in the distance drags him out of his thoughts, and Wilbur decides that maybe he should get inside before it gets darker, and he has an unfortunate encounter with the things that go bump in the night. 

Pushing his way past the grass and dirt covering the entrance, Wilbur makes his way through the long, winding dirt tunnel before reaching the small room where the three of them hold their meetings. It’s not a pretty place by any means, a simple cobblestone room made only out of necessity, but it’s out of the way and muffles noise, so it’s good enough in his book. Dream is already there, sitting at the head of the oak table in the middle of the room, perking up slightly as Wilbur enters. “Wilbur,” he greets with an incline of his head. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, Dream,” he says, pulling out the chair next to him. “What’s on the agenda today?”

“It’s about the festival and the TNT. I have a better proposition, but I’m only going to explain it once.” A better proposition? He’s sure Dream can see the impatient curiosity on his face because he chuckles quietly to himself. 

“Not even a hint?” Wilbur asks, scooting closer. He can’t even try to discern anything from Dream’s facial expressions, the mask and hood obscuring everything but a few locks of dirty blond hair. 

“Nope. I don’t like repeating myself.” 

“Fine, I suppose I can wait.” He doesn’t even really mind waiting, but every second he spends here is another second that Tommy and Techno might notice that he’s gone. If it were just Tommy waiting for him, Wilbur wouldn’t be as concerned, but Techno’s there too. He’s always been able to see right through him. His brother is usually good at minding his own business, but when something peaks Techno’s interest, he focuses on it and _only_ it. 

And if he decides to fixate on figuring out where Wilbur goes every few nights, well... it definitely won’t end well.

“You’re fidgeting a lot, Wilbur,” Dream notes, catching his attention. “Is something wrong?” 

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” he says quickly, ”Just my nerves... Schlatt’s taking a while, isn’t he?” 

“...I guess he is.” Is it just him, or did Dream’s voice get colder? “You two know each other, right?”

“Yeah, we have a history,” he confirms. He’s not entirely sure _why_ Dream is so curious all of a sudden, but honestly who knows what goes on in that man’s head sometimes. “We spent a lot of time together when we were younger.” 

He slips out of his chair and sits on the table, facing Wilbur. “Tell me about it.”

“What? No, I—“

“ _Tell me about it,_ ” Dream repeats, almost growling it out, and then his nails are digging into his chin, forcing Wilbur to stare into the eyeholes of his mask. His eyes are green, a bright and almost radioactive shade that burns into his soul and kills any protests Wilbur might have had on his tongue. Swallowing, he nods, and Dream’s grip relaxes some. 

“Okay, uh, so we actually ended up in a lot of different worlds together. It’s— That’s how we met. SMPLive was one of the better ones.” The edges of his lips quirk up thinking about the lovely little world. It’s bittersweet to think about now, but he cherishes those memories all the same. “I thought our friendship would last forever, y’know? That naivety is stupid to think about now, but I really did believe we could last through hell and high water.” _And then we didn’t,_ he thinks a bit bitterly. 

Wilbur tenses slightly as Dream’s hand starts trailing down, moving to rub circles into his collarbone with his thumb. “All that time together, and you two were ‘just friends’?” Alright, that’s _enough._

“Why do you care? What the hell do you get from this? I didn’t even want to talk about Schlatt right now, much less _think_ about him,” he snaps. It doesn’t have the desired effect. Instead of making Dream back off, the hand on his collarbone slides down to grip his shirt, and Wilbur is suddenly acutely aware of how _close_ Dream is. 

“I’ll take your mind off of him, then.” Before he can even think to ask what _that_ means, he’s forcefully dragged off of his chair by his shirt, swapping places with Dream as his back slams into the edge of the table. 

“Dream, what the _hell_ —?” A moan, loud enough to be bordering on a shriek, escapes him as Dream bites down (when did he move his mask up?), slipping a hand up his shirt and pressing a knee to his groin. His head spins — _what is going on?_ “I- I don’t— you can’t—“ 

Dream releases his teeth from his neck, using his tongue to lick off the blood around his mouth. “Did you ask Schlatt to stop?” He punctuates his question with another harsh grind that makes Wilbur jerk. “Or did you let him keep going?” Dream doesn’t wait for him to respond, instead leaning back down to leave more bites across the pale skin of his neck.

Despite himself, Wilbur can’t help but rock back onto Dream’s knee, to try and relieve some of the pressure that’s steadily starting to grow in the pit of his stomach. “ _Dream,_ ” the embarrassing keen leaves his mouth, and he can feel his ears heat up as the man in question chuckles. 

“Tell me everything Schlatt did to you, and I’ll do it better,” he says, and it finally _clicks_. 

_He’s jealous._

Wilbur can’t believe he’s not dreaming. He’s never pegged Dream of all people as the jealous type, but it’d make sense, wouldn’t it? The other man has shown in the past to be possessive over what he deems his, whether it be land, pets, or even people. Wilbur just never thought he’d be included in that last one. It’s... actually pretty flattering. Besides, this isn’t the first time he’s dealt with someone’s possessive streak. 

“I don’t know if you can,” Wilbur says, letting his trench coat slip off his shoulders and pool onto the floor. “I mean, Schlatt’s a lot stronger physically. He could manhandle me easily—“ A yelp escapes him as he’s twisted and shoved face first into the table, leaving him scrambling for purchase on the smooth oak wood. His trousers are promptly shoved down, exposing his bare thighs to the cool air and making his shiver. 

_Smack!_

“ _Ah!_ ” A sharp, burning pain blooms on his outer thigh. He nearly bites his tongue off from how hard he jerks as another _smack_ rings out, a loud moan escaping. “ _Dream—_ ”

“Keep talking. I want to know everything he’s done,” There’s a cold anger in his voice that makes his cock twitch, and suddenly Wilbur _really_ wants to piss him off some more. 

“Feels like you’re trying to compensate, maybe ‘cause Schlatt was such a better partner— _fuck!_ ” Wilbur curses as a particularly hard smack makes his thighs sting, and he risks a glance back. The skin is reddened, and the dark red palm print leaves him shuddering. 

“I’d watch my mouth if I were you, Wilbur,” Dream hums, moving to rub the waistband of his underwear. “Just because I’m letting you speak right now doesn’t mean I won’t shut you up if you get out of hand.” Wilbur bites the bottom of his lip and nods, trying not to flinch as his lower half is fully exposed to Dream. Rough, calloused hands grope and knead his ass, making him squirm.

“Could you— fuck, could you maybe not use me as a stress ball?” Wilbur groans, twisting his neck to look back at Dream. It doesn’t help that the other chooses that moment to grind his own prominent, fabric covered bulge into the crest of Wilbur’s ass, the nigh-painful friction leaving his gasping. “A-And for the record, Schlatt didn’t— he was never this rough with me.” 

Dream pauses at that, cocking his head slightly. “Do you want me to be more gentle?”

“...No. I like this,” Wilbur admits, flushing slightly. “Wait, do you even have lube?” He’s answered by the soft click of a bottle uncapping, a slicked-up finger poking at his entrance. Schlatt would’ve never been this quiet — he would’ve poked through the silence with praises and cute nicknames that would leave him burning red and hiding his face. 

This, though... it’s comforting in its own way, the gentler thrusting almost feeling like its own praise, as if Dream’s thanking Wilbur for his obedience with softer movements compared to the harsher ones before. 

He’s not sure which he prefers more. 

“ _Dream,_ ” Wilbur moans out, eyes pricking with tears as another finger is added, slowly scissoring him open. It’s been so long since someone’s last touched him like this, it leaves him high-strung and shaky, a bottle about to burst at any second. “This is— good, you’re doing really good, amazing, I love—“

A weight presses down on his back, and he can feel Dream’s hot breath in his ear, two fingers still steadily thrusting into him. “I’m doing better than Schlatt ever could, right?” 

“I—“

“ _What the fuck?_ ” Wilbur jerks, stray tears falling down his face as he looks up to see Schlatt at the entrance. The expression on his face would’ve been comical in any other situation. He moves to get up, to cover himself up, to do something, but Dream keeps him pinned with his other hand. Before he can yell at him to get off, Dream’s leaning in and biting down, punctuating it with a sharp twist of his wrist that leaves Wilbur _wailing_. A sharp pain blooms on the side of his neck, wet and warm blood trailing under his shirt. 

Too caught up in the haze of pain and pleasure, he barely registers the way Dream stands up and smirks, licking up Wilbur’s blood, and the way Schlatt tenses, nostrils flaring and eyes narrowing as he storms over. 

“You’re late, Schlatt,” he says seemingly calmly, but there are undertones of a cold smugness in his voice. “That’s fine. We’re postponing the discussion about the festival today, so you can go. Wilbur and I are talking about other things— you’re not needed.”

He snorts. “You call this talking?”

“Yes, I do. In fact, Wilbur was just about to tell me how much better I am than you are.” Wilbur jerks as Dream thrusts in roughly, a stuttered pace that leaves him scrambling to keep his brain functioning. “Is that right, Wilbur?” 

“Dream— please, I need—“ The words get stuck in his throat, forced out by each thrust of Dream’s slim fingers. A different pair of hands tilt his chin up, and Schlatt is looking at him, gently rubbing the marks left by Dream when he had gripped his chin at the beginning of the meeting. It’s soft and nice and so _familiar_ that Wilbur can’t help but moan and lean into his touch. “ _Schlatt..._ ”

“Jesus, what’d he do to you, Wil?” Schlatt murmurs. “Hey asshole, why don’t you take a step back and ask again if you’re so confidant?”

“You should go, Schlatt.” Wilbur yelps as Dream removes his fingers and pulls him back roughly by his shirt, pulling him close and wrapping an arm around his chest to keep him from collapsing on trembling knees. Schlatt uses that moment to move around the table, tossing his suit jacket and tie on a nearby chair. 

“Not when you’re doing this much of a piss-poor job. The only reason loverboy’s even reacting this much is probably because he’s fucking touch-starved, not because of you, green boy,” he says, moving close enough to effectively sandwich Wilbur between the two of them. “At least you had the decency to use lube.”

“You think I don’t know what I’m doing?” Dream hisses, and the arm around his chest gets even tighter. 

Schlatt smirks. “Well, only one of us has known him for a few weeks, and it’s not me. Believe me, kid, all I need is one night, and Wilbur wouldn’t even be thinking of entertaining you.”

“Is that a challenge?” 

“W-Wait a second—“ Wilbur starts, but then Schlatt wraps a hand around his sensitive cock, squeezing it in the way he knows makes his legs turn to jelly, and he can’t breathe, much less speak. 

“You know what, sure. Let’s let Wilbur decide. We’ll both take turns fucking him. Long as we want, no cumming inside,” Schlatt smiles, “Do we have a deal?”

“What if he cums?” Dream asks, jerking his head towards the quivering mess against his chest. Schlatt hums, considering, before he grabs his red silk tie from the chair and, in one fluid motion, tightens it snugly across Wilbur’s cock. 

“It’s not as good as a real cock ring, of course, but it’ll do in a pinch,” he says, pumping Wilbur’s cock one last time for good measure. He shudders, burying his face into the side of Dream’s neck, the man letting out a pleased sound at this. “You look like a picture, sweetheart. Not too tight?”

“C-Couldn’t have asked me that before?” Wilbur grumbles between pants, but there’s no real heat to it. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Good. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be going first,” Schlatt said, holding his arms out expectantly. For a second, it looks like Dream might protest, but then he scowls and begrudgingly lets him go. Tossing Schlatt the lube, he pulls up a chair and leans back to watch. “On the table, Wilbur.” 

“Alright,” he says, stumbling over to the table on shaky legs. Combined with the cold air and his thin shirt, the equally-cold wood makes him shiver slightly, and Schlatt takes notice of it. 

“If you’re freezing, say something, dumbass,” he mutters, tossing his suit jacket over Wilbur’s frame. “Unless you were planning to use me as your personal heater?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Schlatt snorts, and Wilbur cracks a grin. Lying back, he tugs the jacket closer like a blanket as he spreads his legs. For a second, when they’re joking around like this, he can almost forget everything’s that has happened between them. In this moment, they’re not the President of Manberg and the Rebellion Leader — right now it’s just Wilbur and Schlatt. 

(He’ll never admit it out loud, but he misses the days when it was just Wilbur and Schlatt.)

Schlatt pours lube over two of his fingers, pressing them in one at a time. “ _Fuck—_ ” Wilbur gasps out. His fingers are a lot more thicker than Dream’s, stretching him out and filling him up a lot more. It doesn’t help that Schlatt knows every little nook and cranny of his body, using it to his advantage as he thrusts in and twists, nearly dragging a wail out of Wilbur as he brushes against his prostate. He leans down, pressing soft kisses against the lazily bleeding bite marks and hickies littering Wilbur’s neck. 

He works him open, one finger at a time, and Wilbur can do nothing but rock his hips back in a desperate attempt to get off. His own weeping cock bobs with every thrust, slapping against his shirt and staining it with precum. If it weren’t for the cock ring, he’s sure he would’ve came completely untouched by now, and it’s a bit of an embarrassing thought. 

“You’re doing so well for me, sweetheart,” Schlatt says, using his other hand to brush back some of Wilbur’s sweat slick curls out of his face. “Think you’re ready for my cock?” 

“Y-Yeah, I’m— just put in already,” Wilbur says, trying to hide the waver in his voice. He can’t hide the whine that escapes his throat at the loss of Schlatt’s fingers though, and the ram-hybrid is quick to unbuckle his pants and shove them down to his knees. They both groan quietly as Schlatt pushes in, Wilbur’s legs hooking behind him to keep him in. Schlatt’s a lot bigger than he remembers, and there’s a burn that instinctively makes him clamp down and arch his back high like a scared cat, but that only makes it worse. Taking a few deep breaths, Wilbur forces himself to relax. “You can move.”

He doesn’t. “Schlatt?”

“Gimme a minute, Wil,” he murmurs, “It’s been a long time since I’ve had you like this. I forgot how pretty you looked under me, wearing my clothes, my mar—“ Schlatt cuts himself off with a growl, eyes darkening as he swipes a thumb over the blood crusted marks left by Dream. Wilbur shudders as the man sucks wet, open-mouthed kisses over them and roughly begins thrusting in. 

Schlatt keeps a painfully slow pace, thrusting in sharply but making sure Wilbur can feel every inch dragging against his walls as he pulls back, leaving him desperate and begging. “Faster— _please_ , Schlatt—“ 

“No, I don’t think I’ll go faster, Wilbur,” he growls into his neck, “You need a fucking reminder. I wanted to be nice about this, but the fact that you let _that_ asshole fuck you? Shit, you don’t know how much it _pisses me off._ ” Schlatt accentuates the last few words with several quick thrusts, knocking the air out of him. 

“I— he didn’t— we haven’t fucked yet, I _swear—_ ”

“ _Yet_ ,” Schlatt mocks, and he nearly sobs in relief as the other _finally_ starts going faster. “You’re a bit of a whore, aren’t you, Wilbur? I wonder what Tommy would say, seeing you like this... being fucked by not one, but _two_ of your enemies.” 

“Don’t—! Don’t bring him into this,” Wilbur tried to snap, but it comes out quiet and pitiful, a prominent waver in his voice as tears slip down. Schlatt laughs, and he has to look away, to try and regain his composure—

His eyes fall on Dream. 

The rage in the tight line of Dream’s lips falls away as soon as he notices Wilbur is watching, replaced with a small smile as he slowly strokes his erect dick. He’s not sure what he’s going to say as he opens his mouth, but he doesn’t need to figure it out. Schlatt grabs his chin, forcing him to look back at him.

“Fucking look at _me_ right now, Wilbur,” he hisses, and all the brunet can do is sob, completely overwhelmed by Schlatt and only Schlatt, ready to _burst_ —

Schlatt pulls him up and pulls out, swallowing Wilbur’s resulting wail with a rough press of his lips. Warm cum splatters between them, mixing with the tears dripping down his face, and he’s been so tightly wound up that even the slightest touch hurts, but he doesn’t want Schlatt to move away. He wants this moment, this kiss, to last a lifetime—

“You’ve had your fun, Schlatt,” Dream says, shoving the hybrid away unceremoniously, and Wilbur nearly sobs. “It’s my turn. You should probably go clean up. Somewhere else.” The man grumbles, shooting one last soft look at Wilbur before turning away to get cleaned up. Dream’s quick to toss Schlatt’s suit jacket off of Wilbur and onto the floor, making him shiver as the cold air hits his warm skin, his thin white shirt offering no protection from the elements. “How are you feeling?” His knuckles rub circles against Wilbur’s cheek, brushing sweat slicked bangs out of the way. 

It takes him a few minutes to find his words. “F-Fine.” 

“That’s good,” Dream hums, trailing his hand down to circle and poke at Wilbur’s abused hole. He brushes against his over sensitive dick on the way down, making Wilbur arch his back with a sharp moan. 

“ _Dream,_ ” he gasps out, vision blurring as another wave of tears start to well up. The man in question chuckles, leaning forward to kiss them away, thrusting in three fingers sharply. “You don’t need to— fuck, please, I just wanna cum— I need to—“ 

“You can’t cum yet, _Wilby,_ ” Dream says, “At the end, but not yet.” Three fingers turn into four, and he can’t help but rut his hips back onto them as they crook and hit his prostate, chasing an orgasm he can’t have. “You’re practically sucking me in.”

“Please, Dream,” Wilbur begs, letting go of any shred of pride he might have had (which is, to say, none — all of it had been fucked out of him by Schlatt earlier), pawing at Dream. “I just— I just want you in me.” Vaguely, he thinks he can hear someone scoff in the background (Schlatt?) but he’s too far gone to care. 

“Alright, since you asked so nicely. Turn around,” Dream orders, and he’s quick to comply, no matter how heavy his limbs feel. He nearly cums, ring be damned, as his cock brushes against the edge of the table, and more tears leak onto the table. Two thumbs tease the outer ring of his red and slicked hole, stretching it out, and Wilbur yelps out a high-pitched _Dream!_ as a hot air puffs against it. “You have some nice reactions.” 

“Fuck you,” he says weakly, and Dream just laughs. 

“That’s my plan.” Wilbur digs his nails into the table as Dream pushes in and with a rough grind, starts a fast and deep clip. There’s no build-up, just a rough pounding that makes his dick rub up against the edge of the table, and a hand on his neck forcing his face into the wood. He can’t do anything sandwiched between Dream and the table, completely at the other man’s mercy. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”

Wilbur _can’t._ Any higher brain functions have completely deserted him, and all he can do is lay there and take what Dream is giving him. The hand on his neck tightens its grip on his neck at his silence, and Wilbur can feel Dream lean down, hot air brushing against his ear. “ _Tell me how you’re feeling.”_ He jerks back as the thrusts suddenly stop, squirming as the cock twitches, and Dream grinds against him.

“It’s— a lot, I can’t— it’s too much, I just wanna cum, please, please, please move, _Dream_ ,” Wilbur all but sobs.He hardly knows what he’s saying, just wants to find the words that’ll make Dream start moving again. “Please—“

“Who do you like better? Schlatt or me?” _Oh, for fucks sake—_

“ _It doesn’t matter!_ Why are you so obsessed with this?” He can’t understand why. “If you fucks want to compete so badly, don’t do it when you’re fucking me!” 

“...You’re lucky I’m just as pent up.” There’s an odd note in his voice that Wilbur wants to comment on, but then any and all thought he had managed to scramble up during that reprieve is knocked out of him with a sharp thrust of Dream’s hips. The bruising clip forces him further into the table, and all he can really focus on is the drag of Dream’s cock against his walls. It’s so much thinner than Schlatt’s, but longer, making him see stars with every thrust. 

Nothing but moans and stuttered pleas fall from his lips with each slap of skin on skin. Wilbur desperately wants to turn around, wants to touch and kiss and do something, but he can barely support himself, much less turn around. He’s about ready to burst, strung out far too long throughout the night to try and hold back. His cock is angry red, shiny and dripping, and Wilbur desperately wants to just cut off the tie and cum already. 

“Take it off— please, I just want to cum,” Wilbur begs. Dream lets out another pleased noise. “Please, please, lemme cum, I just wanna—“ He cuts himself off with a shriek as Dream wraps an arm around his and suddenly pulls him tightly to his chest, much like what he had done earlier. This time, though, Wilbur has his cock inside him, and gravity shoves him down in exactly the perfect position for Dream to hit his prostate dead-on. 

Something wraps around his dick, tight and wet and unforgiving, and Wilbur forces his eyes open to see Schlatt pumping his erection. There’s a silent conversation going on between him and Dream, one that Wilbur can’t even _begin_ to decipher, just knows that it ends with the tie _finally_ coming off and him seeing white. 

When Wilbur finally comes back, the world a hazy dark glow around him, he’s lying in someone’s lap. There are people talking above him, but he can’t register anything except for the soft fingers running through his curls and the uncomfortable wet heat inside of him. He should be more worried about how he’s going to hide the inevitable limp, but right now that’s a problem for tomorrow’s Wilbur. “Wil? You finally back to us?” 

“Schlatt...?” The words come out of his throat airy and hoarse, and the ram-hybrid laughs. 

“Welcome back to the land of the living. Dream’s gone to set up a tent.” A tent? Schlatt must see the confusion on his face, as he continues to explain. “Yeah, you’re not going back to your little ravine in that state, sweetheart.”

Fair enough. Wilbur’s not even sure if he can stand up right now. 

“...bet?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Schlatt says, “Seriously. Let’s just say that we had an... agreement. Get some sleep, Wil. We’ll clean up.” His eyes _do_ feel heavy, and it doesn’t seem like there’re anymore problems... and he’s pretty fucking tired. He deserves some rest. “Yeah, you do. Go the fuck to sleep.” 

“M’kay.” 

Wilbur shuts his eyes, and he’s out like a light.

**Author's Note:**

> Burnt out several times while writing this but that’s par for course when it comes to me lol 
> 
> Honestly half way through I had no idea where I was going with this so I pulled an all nighter, downed several cans of energy drinks, and tried to see what I could come up with. And it was this. Hope you enjoyed it, person who requested this. 
> 
> If I have only one regret, it’s that I couldn’t find a way to put in some spit roasting (maybe in a sequel??) this did also give me a spoil of war! Wilbur fic idea but I’ll have to shelve it for now
> 
> I’ll be completing the rest of the fic roster before I get to anymore multi-chap or request stuff, so yeah 
> 
> —
> 
> Roster:
> 
> 1\. Ghostbur/Glatt  
> 2\. Touch of Sable prequel and sequel  
> 3\. Dreambur, pre-Nov. 16  
> 4\. Quackibur, duck hybrid Quackity


End file.
